


Malta's George Cross

by British_Racing_Green



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Historical, Historical Hetalia, Historical References, Inspired by Real Events, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 12:31:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17365883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/British_Racing_Green/pseuds/British_Racing_Green
Summary: England wasn’t the only country to say “No. Not here. This stops right here, right now!”





	Malta's George Cross

**Author's Note:**

> The following is based on a true event, but for the purpose of the narrative some scenes and dialog have been invented or slightly altered.
> 
> I don’t own 'Hetalia' or anything about the George Cross.

**Malta’s Diary**

April 15th 1942 (Night).

Dear Diary,

The Allies are on the back foot. Japan is ruling the pacific with a rod of iron and Germany has just decided on something called ‘The Final Solution’. I don’t understand what this means but if I know him it can’t be good.

I hate Germany. He is the reason why I’ve become like I am. I can’t help it if my home splits the Mediterranean in two or I’m in the way of his precious African divisions. So what does he do to me? Bombs me close to death is what he does! I’ve nearly run out of food completely (I just have a quarter of a chocolate bar left!) and I only have a tiny amount of fuel to light my fire (which is nearly out)!! I can only fire a few of my Anti-Aircraft shells at Germany each day as well. Why doesn’t he just invade me and get it over with?

WHAT AM I WRITING? I CAN’T GIVE UP!

I stopped that moron Italy from invading me because I spotted his E-boats, and I can stop that brute Germany if I put my mind to it! HE HASN’T BEATEN ME YET!

But this day and night bombing is just too much sometimes.

**Third Person**

Malta put her diary and tiny pencil back in the top pocket of her uniform a sighed heavily as she leaned back against a weak mound of bricks that was once part of a house. It was the dead of night now but that didn’t mean Germany was sleeping.

She was freezing cold, extremely fatigued and incredibly hungry, almost to the point of starvation. She was terrified. Any slight engine sound she heard she jumped. Any attack from the air could be the one that would seal her defeat.

Malta shuddered and gripped her battered old rifle tightly. She could hear a jeep from not very far away and soon saw its dim headlights in the distance. Getting up, Malta pointed her rifle at the jeep which was being driven in her direction.

“Halt!” Malta ordered. The jeep did as it was told.

“Who goes there, friend or foe?!” She challenged.

“Friend.” Replied the driver of the jeep calmly.

“Which friend?!” Malta was too battle-hardened to fall for _that_ one.

“England.” He said jumping out of the jeep and walking up to Malta.

His haggard looking face was lit up by the jeep’s lights, confirming his identity. But whereas his face looked a real mess, for some reason he was in full military uniform.

Malta lowered her rifle and smiled. She hadn’t seen a friendly face in a long while. But a deafening grumble that came from her stomach caused her to wince and fall to her knees in agony.

“Malta!” England cried out as he ran to pick her up. He gently lifted up the younger nation and sat her down where she had just written in her diary. It was only when England had sat down beside Malta did he notice that her hunger pains were making her cry.

“Good God. I had no idea you were _that_ bad!" England gasped.

“I’m so weak. I don’t think I can take this anymore.” Malta grizzled into his shoulder.

England reached into his pocket and pulled out some tinfoil, within which lay two fresh ham and cheese sandwiches. He placed them in Malta’s hands and smiled at her.

“You need those more than I.” He told her with a reassuring smile on his face.

Malta didn’t need to be told again, and set about mauling the sandwiches with animal-like ferocity. She didn’t even ask if England had made them. She just wanted food.

After her ‘supper’ a smile returned to Malta’s face. Then a question to her mind.

“England. Why are you here?” She asked him.

England did not answer, but instead stood up, turned to face her and pulled a small box and a piece of paper out of his breast pocket.

“You’re not proposing are you?” Malta asked him cheekily.

“No.” England had suddenly come over all serious. “You need to stand up for this.”

Malta did as she was told and gingerly stood up to face an incredibly serious looking England who began to read what was written on the paper:

“By the Grace of God, I, King George VI of Great Britain, Ireland and the British Dominions beyond the Seas, Defender of the Faith and Emperor of India, have along with England highly admired Miss Malta’s outstanding courage in the face of overwhelming odds. I personally wish to honour her bravery. I award the George Cross to the Island Fortress of Malta to bear witness to a heroism and devotion that will long be famous in history. Signed, George R.I.”

England folded the paper, opened the box and produced a small silver medal in the shape of a cross with a dark blue ribbon. He made his way to Malta, pinned the medal onto her uniform and handed her its box which also contained the medal’s ribbon. England took one step back and saluted Malta.

It took Malta a second or two to register what had just happened, but when she realised the full gravity of the situation, saluted England back.

“You’re a shining example to all of the Allies in these dark times.” England told her.

“By God’s help I will not weaken but will endure until victory is won.” Malta replied, bursting with pride and honour. Her tears of hunger now replaced with those of joy.

England smiled at her and placed his right hand under her chin.

“Keep your chin up Malta. We all have faith in you.”

With that he made his way back to his jeep and started the engine, causing Malta to shudder. Tipping his hat, England drove away into the night and back to the war.

Malta held her George Cross in her hand and looked up into the dark sky.

“You will never break me Germany. You will rue the day that you failed to capture Malta GC!”

**Author's Note:**

> The George Cross (GC) is the highest decoration that a civilian can be awarded in the United Kingdom and many other Commonwealth counties. It is also the second highest military honour after the Victoria Cross (VC).
> 
> It is awarded for: “Acts of the greatest heroism or of the most conspicuous courage in circumstances of extreme danger”.
> 
> Malta’s GC and George VI’s message is currently on display in the War Museum in Fort Saint Elmo in Valletta, Malta’s capital. The GC also adorns Malta’s national flag.
> 
> She is (as far as I am aware) the only nation to have been awarded a medal.
> 
> This was originally posted to Fanfiction.net in 2011.


End file.
